


Scars

by chronicAngel



Series: Earth-107 [6]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Cassandra Cain is Batgirl, Gen, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of past abuse, Mentions of past self-harm, POV Third Person, Scars, Sleepovers, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, mentions of teenage pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: Stephanie and Cassandra swap stories.





	Scars

The girls are close enough that it doesn't feel weird to lay around in nothing but t-shirts and their underwear, and Stephanie can see her hair brushing against the floor as she hangs upside down from her bed, Cass sitting across from her on the floor with her legs crossed and back straight as though they are in school and she might get scolded if she slouches. She sees Cassandra's eyes, like they are scanning something, analyzing it closely like it may be a threat to her, but Stephanie can't tell what, exactly, she's actually looking at like that. Eventually, she lifts a bony hand, a hand that doesn't look like it should be able or allowed to throw middle-aged men across rooftops or have palms that are coated in calluses from hours of unnecessary training in the night. "What is," she points at a long, pale scar on one of Stephanie's collarbones. "From?"  
  
She speaks like her tongue is heavy, always such a notable contrast from the fast, bubbly tones that Stephanie tends to speak in, and it takes her a moment to even tell what it is Cass is talking about. Her attention isn't usually on her scars, however many there are. "My dad... One of the first fights I had with his thugs."  
  
Squinting, she pauses a moment before pointing at a large, round scar on Cassandra's forehead. "What about you? Where'd you get that?"  
  
"Father." It's short, and Stephanie gives her a moment to think before she opens her mouth again. "Failed an assignment. Beat me with a..." She gestures in the air for a moment, holding her hands about two feet apart as she tries to remember the word, "pole. Metal pole."  
  
Her hand finds its way to Cass' shoulder, and she lightly pats her on the back, careful to avoid a large bruise under the bra strap from when they were patrolling earlier in the night and a mugger picked up a glass bottle from the ground and smashed it on Cassandra's shoulder blade. The Batgirl suit stopped most of the shards of glass from cutting her skin, but unfortunately, the costume does little to block blunt force. Cass looks at Steph's hand suspiciously, then grabs it, turning to stare at her wrist; specifically, at a series of faded lines down her arm. Her eyes are blown wide with concern and it actually makes Stephanie wince. "These?"  
  
She slides down the bed to sit on the floor next to Cassandra, chewing on her lip for a moment as she stares almost in disgust at the marks, the pale lines left behind by an idiotic thirteen-year-old whose father was in prison. Her shirt rides up her stomach and she barely detects the cold air from the AC that fills her bedroom as it hits her stomach, which feels much more sudden than any punch she has ever taken and yet almost goes unnoticed. "I..." She starts, then stops just as fast, gathering her words again as she stews in guilt and tries to decide how to put it. "I was a dumb kid. That's all." She doesn't say anything more, and Cassandra doesn't ask her to, instead stretching before leaning back against Stephanie's dresser as though that's any more comfortable despite the fact that her back is still ramrod straight. Stephanie sees a long set of scars on her leg, and she quirks an eyebrow. "This may just be because you're normally wearing pants, but I've never seen those before."  
  
Cass processes this for a second, before frowning, staring at the scars on her leg as though she is ashamed. Just as Stephanie is about to say that she doesn't have to tell her, she begins to speak, voice even heavier than it usually is with guilt. "A target-- a woman. Self-defense." Her eyebrows furrow as she thinks for a moment and this time it is she who is chewing on her lip, something Stephanie is not sure she has ever seen Cassandra do before; they don't normally talk about her past.  
  
"Just wanted to shoot her. Get it over with. Father made me..." She holds her hands together in a circle for a moment, before making a face like she has remembered something. "Strangle. These..." She runs her hand along the lines, and Steph thinks she sees her shiver. "Claw marks."  
  
'These' is the easiest word for Cass. When Tim and Stephanie were still teaching her the basics of speech, it was one of the first words she picked up, and she has had to use it many times since, enough that it's not something she struggles with. But this time, when she is gesturing to her scars and talking about where they came from, 'these' sounds like it is a struggle for her to get out, almost like she is choking on her words. The air feels heavy, and Stephanie feels like she has to drag her eyes up from Cass' legs to look her in the face, to see the guilt manifesting itself as a storm in those brown eyes; she has to do something. After a second, her hand rests on her bare stomach, and the difference in warmth between the two parts is startling. "This..."  
  
She is running her hand along the bottom of her abdomen, and she has to tear it away as she grabs Cassandra's hand gently and rests it on the long scar there, still internally debating if she wants to do this, if she wants to say this. "This is from my baby." Cass looks confused again, eyebrows furrowed as though she is wondering if she heard the wrong word, or has forgotten what that word means. Steph doubts it. It's one of the only ones she picked up fast. She seemed so guilty to learn it. Stephanie wants to know why, but she knows that now is not the time to ask. "I got pregnant when I was fifteen... Giving her up was the hardest thing I've ever done, even to this day." She laughs, but it's wet and it feels forced. "She'll be four this year... I didn't even..." With a shaky sigh, she looks Cass in the eyes, her own wide and watery. "I asked Tim not to tell me. Whether I had a boy or a girl, that is. And he didn't. He was so good about it, the whole time. I thought everyone would judge me, that everyone would be disappointed in the fifteen-year-old mom with so much potential who threw it all away by going and getting herself knocked up. I couldn't not know though... He slipped up a week later. Accidentally said "she" instead of it. I couldn't even be mad at him... In a way, I was relieved to know. It wasn't what I wanted, but it... it was sort of like closure."  
  
She feels vulnerable, and the air fills heavy, like every inhale fills her lungs with lead and makes it nearly impossible to exhale. Cass wraps her arms around her in a way that is probably meant to comfort, but when she speaks, her tone is confused. "Tim is a father?" Stephanie can't stop the tears from spilling over when she laughs.


End file.
